


Hurt

by Missthang616



Category: Whiskey Cavalier (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22161535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missthang616/pseuds/Missthang616
Summary: Will falls and gets kinda hurt
Relationships: Will Chase/Frankie Trowbridge
Comments: 13
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

"Idiot." Frankie muttered for the sixth time as she fetched Will a glass of water from the kitchen sink.

"Yes, thank you. I think you've made it pretty clear how much of an idiot I am already, Frank's."

"Complete idiot. Undeniable moron. Imbecile."

He rolled his eyes and attempted to force yet another apologetic look on to his face. Really, she was taking it a little far.

"I've already apologized three times!"

"That's not the point!"

"I thought it would be fine!"

"That's why you're an idiot."

"Frankie, I'm fine! No broken bones, I'm not dead, relax."

"Relax!?" She practically screeched as she shoved the glass of water at him, almost spilling it all over the place.

"Susan comes running up, almost hysterical, shouting about how you fell and she couldn't wake you up and you want me to relax after I thought…after I…was imagining you…just…and you want me to relax!?" Frankie threw her hands up in disbelief and anger, pacing violently and shooting him a glare every few seconds.

"I was out for maybe ten minute at most and like I've already explained a hundred times, I'm fine. I'll probably have a few bruises and my shoulder hurts like a bitch but I'm okay." Will softened his features, imploring her to see that he was fine and that she didn't need to worry. He watched her sag in exhaustion, saw the barely concealed tears brim precariously in the corners of her eyes and immediately felt guilty that he'd scared her so badly.

"Hey. I'm okay."

"Please, just please, promise me that you won't do anything stupid like that again. I can't…I don't…you can't die, Will. I need my partner." She looked at him fiercely and he was taken aback by whatever emotion was burning in her eyes.

"I promise. I'm fine. I'm really sorry, Frankie."

"You could've died! How could you be so stupid?"

Will attempted to shrug but winced harshly when his shoulders ached in protest.

Frankie walked over to him, her eyes raking over his body slowly, no doubt assessing the damage now that she'd calmed down a bit and realized he wasn't on the brink of death.

"Clean up and go to bed. I'll be in as soon as you're done. Don't argue, that's doctor's orders." She shot him a stern look and motioned for him to go to the bathroom.

He almost muttered a 'Yes, Mom' but decided he'd pushed her too far already today and he probably deserved her ire to be honest.

He had been an idiot but he'd really thought that it was a waste of time to wait for backup, when they were so close to catching Ollerman. He'd been up on the balcony, trying to stay out of sight and he hadn't thought he'd been leaning that far over. When he'd lost his balance he'd barely had time to register himself falling before he'd hit the ground and knocked himself out. He hadn't hit his head apparently but the pain from the jolt of hitting the floor had overwhelmed him enough to cause him to black out for what he was sure was only a few minutes.

He finished cleaning himself up then made his way towards his bedroom. He heard Frankie rummaging around in the her room of the joint hotel room they were sharing as he climbed into bed, moving to what he'd somehow taken to deeming his side ever since he and Frankie had shared a bed once about two weeks ago now for a mission.

For some reason he couldn't quite get himself to take up the whole bed as he had before. A small part of him hoped she'd share his bed with him again but ever since that night there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that it wasn't to be brought up again.

Frankie entered his room in her pyjamas and Will tried not to let his thoughts run away with him. His heart had taken to pounding every time he saw her in them now, which was annoying to say the least.

She climbed into bed with him and Will fought to keep the surprise off of his face.

"Move forward so I can sit behind you. You'll need to take your top off too, I need to look at your shoulders." Frankie dropped her gaze slightly and remained still, waiting for him to do as she asked.

Will mentally shook himself before slowly obeying, removing his shirt and tossing it on to the floor as he shifted forward so that there was enough room for Frankie to squeeze in behind him.

He felt her eyes on his back as she assessed the damage and tried not to fidget under her scrutiny.

He startled slightly when he felt her hands on the middle of his back and fought hard against a pleased shudder as she gently stroked her hand up towards his shoulders.

"You'll have quite a few bruises but at least you didn't dislocate or break anything. I can help with some of the pain but you'll probably feel like shit tomorrow." Frankie's voice sounded a little more breathy than usual and Will wondered if she'd always sounded this enticing or whether he might have actually hit his head and not realized it.

He swallowed and cleared his throat as his brain tried to form a coherent response. He was finding it difficult to think as Frankie's hands began gently caressing his back, shoulders and neck.

He relaxed into her as her touches soothed some of the aches he was beginning to feel.

He let out a soft moan as her fingers worked out a particularly painful kink and felt her stiffen slightly before she recovered and continued.

"This is getting to be a habit. I can't say it's unpleasant though."

He could almost feel Frankie rolling her eyes behind him and chuckled.

"The massages or the bed sharing?" Frankie replied, a challenge in her voice.

Ah, so she was going to acknowledge the bed sharing then. About time.

"Both."

"So are you deliberately injuring yourself to get my attention?"

"I'm not a masochist."

"Good."

"So am I? You know out of curiosity"

"What?"

"Getting your attention"

"Maybe"

Frankie's hands became more insistent and less hesitant as she slowly brought his body under her control. Will wondered, for about the hundredth time since he'd first experienced one of her massages, what else she could do with those hands of hers. Like every time before he shut the thought down immediately. Her proximity and her being in a bed with him meant that those types of thoughts could get dangerous.

They sat quietly, the occasional pleased moan escaping Will's lips as Frankie continued to work her magic. When she withdrew her hands and motioned for him to lay back as she slid from behind him he almost whined in protest from the loss of her touch.

"Go to sleep. You'll need it."

Frankie snuggled down into his sheets and closed her eyes, sighing sleepily as she reached for one of his hands and interlocked their fingers.

"I'm really glad you're okay"

He held his breath in surprise, looking at her in wonder. She tightened her grip slightly and shuffled towards him. He squeezed her hand back and moved closer to her in response. They were almost touching but something told him neither of them were ready to close the distance all the way yet.

"Night, Frank's." Will whispered, feeling a jolt of boldness as he moved forward just enough to press a gentle kiss against her hair.

He didn't see Frankies smile as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When they woke the next morning Will added 'waking up tangled together' to his list of things that were becoming a habit.


	2. Chapter 2

Frankie had always hated hospital waiting rooms.

They were too bright. The bare fluorescent lighting was stark and glaring, the air thick with the scent of sterility. Everything was a dull and muted quiet, the people sitting in the uncomfortable waiting chairs, the unassuming impressionist art that hung on the walls. The atmosphere was caught somewhere between mind numbingly dull and obnoxious enough to get under your skin.

It turned out that it was even worse when you were waiting for someone you cared about.

She knew Will was going to be okay. He’d suffered non fatal bullet wounds in his side and his shoulder, but it was enough to knock him out of commission for the rest of their misson, enough that she had to almost fully support his weight as she dragged him from the building, shielding them both from gunfire as they evacuated. He’d been lucid when they’d gotten out, grunting in pain as he settled back on the seat when they’d managed to get out to catch their ride. She’d been shoved out of the way when they’d gotten to the hospital, with somewhat optimistic reports on his condition.

And yet she sat there for hours upon hours, waiting, wishing her team was here, her family, her back stiff as a board and her heart in her throat.

When the doctor came out, called out, “Is anyone here for a William Chase?” without even looking up from his clipboard, she was on her feet in an instant. She kept her face as impassive as possible, her breath sticking in heavily in her throat as she waited for the confirmation that he was okay. When he said so, the rigid line of her shoulders visibly relaxed, and the sharp worry in her stomach began to calm itself as relief rushed through her. Her heart still choking her, she followed the doctor out of the room.

She didn’t imagine that she would fully be at ease until she actually saw him, and was able to verify with her own eyes that he was alright, to feel his skin warm under her finger tips. The memory of seeing him with his face pale and twisted in pain, that brief moment of panic she’d felt when he went down and didn’t move for a few seconds too long, still tasted bitter and vile in her mouth.

She walked into his room to find him propped up on a bed of pillows, wearing a hospital gown and sporting a rather large bandage across his forehead. He looked tired and worn out, and rightly so considering what he’d been through. There were dark rings of exhaustion hovering under his eyes, his usual perfect hair was mussed and sticking out in a few places. Despite that, she’d have had to have been blind to miss the way that he was smiling at her softly, his eyes lighting up in that way they did whenever she walked into a room.

“Nice gown,” she teased mildly as the door closed behind her, leaving the two of them alone. Her voice was level and carefully bereft of the emotions that were bubbling in her chest. She crossed her arms, as though doing so might aid her in keeping those emotions in place.

"Thanks," he answered wryly, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that familiar grin she knew so well. "Picked it out myself."

He held out a hand to her, gesturing for her to come to him by waggling his fingers in her direction. She approached the bed slowly and returned the movement, winding her fingers through his when their hands met, but resisted when he tugged on them lightly.

"Come lay down with me?" he asked softly when she stood firmly rooted in one spot.

"I’ll hurt you," she responded, her voice just as soft and careful.

He rolled his eyes, and shook his head. He winced a bit at the movement, but he was still grinning at her.

"Come on, I’m fine. You won’t break me."

"You can’t even move without hurting yourself," she pointed out.

He shrugged, and of course, winced again. There was no denying the fact that he was still in a massive amount of pain, but he didn’t seem interested in disputing it. She knew he probably just didn’t care.

"It’s fine," he assured her, squeezing her fingertips lightly. "I’m fine. You won’t hurt me at all, I’m okay if I just lay still. And it’d be worth it anyways."

"Sap," she informed him, and he shrugged unapologetically.

She bit the inside of her cheek, assessing the man staring up at her, all tired eyes and bruised flesh. He looked like he’d been through hell, but he was still looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

She would never understand how he did that.

"Please, Frank's?" he asked again, still hopeful. He tugged lightly on her hand in a suggestion.

She could refuse, she knew she could, but deep down she knew her concern ran too deep. He was alive and in one piece, and he was okay. There was that worry still settled heavy and sick in her stomach that was making her hesitate, causing her to pause when all she wanted to do was throw herself down next to him and feel the length of him against her.

But Will was looking at her like that, and she felt her resolve crumbling.

Frankie sighed. “Move over,” she told him, and that grin she loved so much broke across his face instantly. He scooted towards the opposite side of the bed, settled into position, and patted the sheets beside him.

She slid into the bed slowly and curled up next to him, carefully arranging her body to try to hurt him as little as possible. She draped her legs over his thighs and rested her head on his shoulder, burying her face into the crook of his neck, like she’d done so many times before. His arm came around to clutch at her shoulder, finger starting to lightly caress the bare skin that peeked out from the collar of her shirt. She looped one arm around his waist, as gently as possible, and with satisfaction she felt all of the worry drain from her body as she relaxed into his touch. This was what she needed, to feel him solid and warm against her, to feel the familiarity of them holding each other like they did countless times.

"See?" Will said into her hair, his voice rumbling gently across her scalp. "I’m perfectly fine."

"Dork” she told him softly

"Yup," he agreed, a bit too cheerfully for their current circumstances. "Your dork though."

"I’m so lucky," she answered dryly and, because she couldn’t help herself, dared to hug him the slightest bit tighter for a fraction of a moment. She was still careful not to hurt him, and he made a small contented noise when she did so.

When he chuckled under his breath and leaned into her to pressed a kiss to the top of her head, she thought that yes, she was exactly that.

Lucky, very lucky indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On chapter one of this story I was asked to see a Frankie hurt/Will pissed version of this scenario in the comments so here it is... nickell47 I'm sorry it took so long to get all the words right... I'm not really sure if you wanted Will mad at himself or mad at Frankie but I hope you like the way it turned out... Also I can't wait to read the update of your story on Friday!! ❤️

Will sits with his head in his hands, his fingers fisted in his hair so hard he's sure he's pulled some out. Not that he cares right now.

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Routine, even. Get in, get out, be done with it.

But Francesa Trowbridge -- badass as she is -- isn't immuned to bullets.

So, now team whiskey are gathered around a hospital waiting room. Will with his head bent, Susan and Ray holding on to each other, Jai pacing, and Standish hovering next to Will, wanting to offer comfort but not knowing how. Meanwhile, Frankie is in an operating room somewhere.

Will's never felt so powerless in his life. he's useless. There isn't a damn thing he can do but wait.

He hates waiting.

A nurse walks through the waiting room and Jai corners her.

"Frankie Trowbridge," he demands, as close to frantic as Jai ever gets.

"She's still in surgery," the nurse soothes, her eyes scanning over all of them sympathetically. "As soon as there's anything to know, you'll know it."

_'That's not good enough!'_ Will wants to scream as she walks away, but he just clenches his jaw. It's not her fault.

_'No, it's your fault,'_ he tells himself. _'You should've been paying closer attention. You should've been protecting her. You should've been **faster**. You're supposed to be a hero! You can't even protect your own partner, your own g--'_

Will shakes his head, cutting off that thought before it can go any further.

Frankie isn't his girlfriend. She's his... something. But girlfriend isn't the word for it, not yet anyway. Ever since Prague he thinks they've been getting closer to it, but they aren't there yet.

_'And now you might never be,'_ his mind helpfully supplies. _'Should've grown a pair and made your move sooner, dumbass.'_

For someone who hates waiting, he sure has wasted a lot of time.

XxXx

It's a while later -- minutes or hours, he isn't sure; 

When the doctor finally emerges he's looking tired but pleased.

"Your friend is very lucky," he tells them and Will has to stop himself from scoffing. She was shot. How lucky can she be? "The bullet missed her heart by less than two inches."

"Can we see her?" Susan asks the nurse as the doctor leaves.

"She needs her rest," she replies. "But she is awake and asking for you so, given the circumstances --" so she does know who they are "-- we're going to allow you in one-at-a-time, five minutes each."

Jai goes in first, then Susan, then Standish. Ray decided to stay back, while things have definitely calmed down between him and Frankie since Susan and him had started dating publicly, she no longer cutting his breaks, or threatening him anymore, he's still nervous around her one on one.

Part of Will wants to scream at having to wait again but part of him is almost relieved.

What is he going to say to her?

They're supposed to be partners out there. He should've had her back. This is all his fault.

What if she doesn't even want to see him?

He's just about to turn and run, save her the energy of having to tell him to get lost, when Jai comes and beelines for him. He grabs him by the collar of his shirt.

"Alright, listen up," Jai says. "Whatever this game is you two've been playing these past two months, ends now."

Will opens his mouth to reply but Jai cuts him off.

"You're either together or you're not. No more dancing around it," he says. "She's lying in there hooked up to machines and asking for you. So you're gonna go in there and tell her how you feel, Got it?"

Will doesn't know what to say. She's asking for him? She wants to see him? She doesn't hate him?

"Got it?" Jai repeats, giving him an stern glare.

Will snaps out of it.

"She just almost died," he replies, just as angry as he is. "You really think I need more of a wake-up call than that? You think I need you to tell me to stop wasting time?"

"Good," Jai says. "Then go stop wasting it."

He jabs his finger toward the door just as Standish emerges and in the blink of an eye Will is in Frankie's hospital room, the door shutting behind him.

"Whiskey?" She slurs when she sees him.

"Hey," he says softly, making his way to her side as slowly as he can bare. He doesn't want to startle her. "How are you feeling?"

"Been better," she replies. She's paler than he's ever seen her and her eyelids are drooping, but she still manages to smile at him. "What took you so long?"

He sighs and carefully sits on the edge of her bed. He doesn't meet her eyes as he says, "I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"Well, that's dumb," she says and that makes him look at her. "Why are you so dumb sometimes?"

He feels the corner of his mouth pull up at that. "How drugged up are you right now?"

"Very," she answers. "And very tired."

He starts to stand. "Do you want me to go?"

She grabs his wrist. Her grip is weak but insistent. "Of course not. Why'd you think I wouldn't wanna see you?"

"Because you shouldn't," he replies. "It was my fault, Frank's, I should've been fa--"

"The next word out of your mouth had better not be 'faster'," she cuts him off.

"I should've been," he insists. "I should've done something."

"Oh, shut up," she says.

His brows scrunching together. "What?"

"I'm the one lying in a hospital bed," she replies. "So, you're not the one we're gonna be feeling sorry for."

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me," he says.

"No, you just wanna feel sorry for yourself," she retorts. Her face softens then, and her fingers slip from his wrist to interlace with his own. "Will, I'm a big girl. I knew what I was getting myself into when I joined the CIA... When I joined this team."

Will looks down at their hands. "I know that. But fuck, Frankie, you could've died and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I was useless and I hate feeling useless but I couldn't do anything and I just kept thinking 'What if she dies? What if she dies and I never get to tell her that--'"

He cuts himself off, realizing what it is he was about to say.

"Tell me what?" She asks. Her eyes are the clearest they've been since he walked in the room and he realizes that she probably already knows.

Time to stop wasting time.

"Tell you that I think Im sorta in love with you," he says.

She doesn't even try to look surprised.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

She smiles when he says. "No time like the present, right?"

She nods. "Yeah."

There's a knock at the door then and the nurse sticks her head in. "Your five minutes ended three minutes ago."

"Right," Will says, standing up. He turns back to her and leans down to place a kiss on her forehead. "Get some sleep, okay? I'll come back tomorrow."

"Okay," she replies and as he reaches the door calls out, "hey, whiskey."

He turns back. "Yeah?"

"I think I'm sorta in love with you, too," she tells him.

He smiles. "Oh _now_ you tell me."

She smiles back. "No time like the present right?"

"Told you Standish gets to from you" he teases from the door way.

"Like mother, like son" she sasses back.


	4. Chapter 4

"Ouch."

"Quit squirming."

"Ah, Frankie, that stings."

"If you'd stop moving, it wouldn't sting as much."

"It's really not that big of a deal."

"Look at you, drop the tough guy act. Whiskey, seriously, stop."

"Ouch! Are you trying to kill me?" Will winced, pulling away from her touch, flinching as she frowned at him, cotton ball of alcohol in her hand. He was being a baby, she was only trying to help, and here he was whining about a little stinging.

The encounter with the suspect had been frightening enough, and he was tired from filing the reports on the incident, the last place he wanted to go was the hospital. That was the logical train of thinking that had resulted in him here, sitting on the edge of Frankie's bathtub, allowing her to dress his injuries. And here he was, Frankie kneeling in the space between his knees, scouring his skin with probably unnecessary first aid cleansers. It was just a few scratches. He was fine.

His partner shook her head at him, and leaned over his knee to reach the butterfly bandages, the bottom curve of her chest coming into contact with his thigh. Good God, she was killing him, and she wasn't even trying.

It didn't help much that she had stripped down, and thrown on a thin tank top and a pair of running shorts, either. The rain continued to batter against the bathroom window, with no hope of letting up, and he vaguely wondered how he was going to get out of here with his dignity. Or without doing something stupid. This was like some wet dream gone horribly awry. She leaned a hand near his knee for support as she reached further over and grabbed whatever bandage she wanted, and he fought a grin as she inched closer to him, her attention concentrated fully on applying the butterfly clasp to close the gash just above his eye.

Her glance flickered to his, catching his eye for a brief moment, before focusing back on his eye.

He tossed her a grin, but she dabbed hydrocortisone cream on the cut on his cheek with a bit more pressure. He inhaled sharply, flinching. "Jesus, woman. Enough already."

"Take off your shirt."

"What?"

"You're holding out on me. You're bleeding, and if you won't go to the damn hospital, at least you can let me look at- William Stoddard Chase. Don't _make_ me strip you myself." There was a sudden determination in her voice, however soft it was, that told him that it was in his best interest to comply. He fingered the buttons of the plain button down shirt he had put on before this horrible mission, and he didn't even try to hide the cringe that swept across his features as he eased the piece of clothing off his shoulders. She stood, breaking their contact, probably, he figured, because she realized just how close they were.

He shed the shirt, letting it fall in a rumpled ball in her tub, leaving the thin, once-white undershirt, smattered now with bits of blood from where he had indeed been bleeding. She turned back to him, with an expression reading business and efficiency, and he watched as it instantly fell off her delicate features, replaced by concern.

"Oh Will." Her words came out breathless.

It wasn't even that bad. If she had known that the suspect had had a switchblade on him, she would have made him go to the hospital. It was just a scratch. He was fine. It wasn't even deep enough for stitches. The dried blood made it look that much worse. Okay, maybe he should have told her about the switchblade.

"Frankie, I'm fine."

"Your body is telling me otherwise, jackass." She said with a hint of harshness then with a softer tone said. "Why wouldn't you just go to the hospital?"

"Why would I go to the hospital for a few bandaids?" Will peeled his undershirt off gently, wincing for a mere moment only when the fabric of the shirt obstructed her view of his face.

"I hate you."

"Liar. You love me. I'm your best friend, your partner, the most important person in your life"

"Shut up. Now stop moving." She glanced up at him, attempting to not smile as she cleaned the gash from the switchblade just below his collarbone. She knelt against the inside of his thigh, her gentle touch carefully cleaning the broken skin, concentrating fully on his chest and the injury he had sustained. She twisted between his knees again, reaching over to the toilet seat for a bandage to go over the clasp, and she smiled faintly as he leaned forward only just, resting his forehead in the crook of her neck, and his fingers on her hips.

"I'm sorry I worried you." His apology was quiet, but it rumbled through her softly just the same.

"You're okay now. That's all that matters." She smoothed the end of the bandage over his collarbone, and brought her fingers up to tangle in the wayward hair at the nape of his neck, resting her other hand beside his hip on his thigh. "Although I don't know whether to kiss you for being alright, or punch you for making me worry." She smiled in full as she felt him laugh softly against her shoulder. He sat up, offering her a full faced grin.

It was then that he ceased to think.

Will simply leaned over, closing the distance between them, and pressed his lips to hers.

She was surprised at first, but within moments granted him access, parting her lips only just, letting him in. His fingers pulled her closer still, and she responded to his quiet kiss, tightening her grip on his thigh. She pulled away reluctantly, and curved the side of her lip into a reassuring smile. She reached up and kissed his forehead, beside the bandage clasp, then leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his collarbone, before turning to face him again.

"Does it hurt anywhere else?" She smiled at him almost mischievously, and arched an eyebrow at him, daring him to point out another injury. He bit back a grin as he realized that this had potential to get really dirty really quick. He shook his head, and leaned forward again to capture her lips with his own.

Will was suddenly glad she didn't drag him to the hospital. He was fairly certain every possible activity that was running through his mind was vastly inappropriate for a public ER.


	5. Chapter 5

At first he felt no different. Then a searing pain ripped through his shoulder. It was ice cold yet scolding hot all at once he hadn't realized he had fallen to the ground until he rubbed his wounded shoulder into the pavement. Three more shots rang out and then there was pressure on Will's shoulder, soft hands attempting to slow the blood flow.

"Stay with me, Will. Come on." He heard Frankie say. Will cried out as she put more pressure on the wound. He could hear Jai talking into his phone, demanding an ambulance.

"Get me something else to slow the blood." Frankie cried out. Everything was getting fuzzy, words ran together and vision blurred. Will's lids were getting heavy and he fought the urge to close them.

"Come on, Whiskey, stay with me. Jai where's the ambulance?" Frankie screamed. He tried to keep focus on her face, but it was getting harder and harder. Eventually his tired eyes won and everything went black.

**XXX**

When Will woke up the bright whiteness of the room stung his eyes. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the light.

"Hey, you awake?" He groaned and slowly rolled his head in the direction of the voice.

"How long have I been out?"

"Its 2 AM."

"Oh. Okay so I'm in the hospital..."

"Will, please don't start."

"Okay, fine. What happened?"

"You were shot. They had to operate to remove the bullet. You also have a broken collar bone."

"The suspect?"

"Dead. Jai shot him after he shot you." There was silence for a moment. "I was so scared today. When you went down... I coulda sworn I was gunna lose you. I couldn't get the bleeding to stop. It was everywhere..."

"I'm okay." Will said. "Frankie, I'm right here. You didn't lose me. I'm okay." He took her hand as she broke down. She rested her head on his good shoulder, her own shoulders shaking with her sobs. It was hard to see Frankie, always so strong; break down like this. Will and Jai was the only one who she ever let see this side of her. Will ran a hand through her hair and muttered soothing nonsense until her sobs stopped. She looked up and wiped her face of tears with the hand that wasn't in his. She leant across him and he welcomed the kiss she placed on his lips. They fell asleep, curled up on the small hospital bed.

**XXX**

Three days later and Will was finally going home. The doctor had wanted to keep an eye on the wound, making sure no infection had formed.

The team came by to check on him the morning after he'd been shot and had found Will and Frankie curled around each other on the bed. At that point they'd had no choice but to tell them the truth.

* * *

Frankie grabbed the bags from behind the seat and climbed out.

"I can get it."

"You just got shot Will, I got the bag"

"Thanks."

"No worries." She closed and locked the door behind them. She carried the bag to the bedroom and he followed her. "How you feeling, Whiskey?"

"I'm a little tired. I don't think my medicine is non-drowsy." He said, stifling a yawn.

"C'mon, time for bed." She said. Will nodded. She took his hand and led them both to the bed, gently pushing him down on it. She walked over and closed the curtains before returning to the bed. She pulled her jeans off, standing only in her panties and t-shirt. Will attempted to remove his shirt, hissing as it pulled on the stitches and over-stretched the broken bone.

"Here, let me help." She said, coming around to Will's side of the bed. She slowly pulled the shirt over the wounded arm and then off the other. After the shirt was removed, she undid his pants and then helped settle him into the track pants he always wore to bed. She pulled back the covers and he slid underneath. She pulled them back over him and went around to the other side, climbing in. Will laid on his back, and Frankie slid up beside him.

He wrapped his good arm around her waist and he felt her bury her nose in his neck.

"Good night, Pretty girl" he whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too, Whiskey. G'night." She whispered back

Falling asleep in the arms of each other, seemed to lessen the pain in his shoulder. He was safe and comfortable. He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The team didn't know about their relationship yet... This was set a couple of weeks after Prague in my head...


End file.
